


Compass (BETA)

by PenNameArtist



Series: Compass [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Fighting, Gen, Magic, Sexy robot people, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenNameArtist/pseuds/PenNameArtist
Summary: Though she'd always dreamt of the day she could become a master weapons designer for the great SoulFire Tournament, Daphne West had never made any real plans to leave her family, nor her apprenticeship as a welder in their 'Hodge-Podge Garage'. It's not until a unique opportunity hits her, at the most inopportune time, that she's forced to make such a tough decision. It isn't SoulFire, but it's a close second, the weapons builder and distributer for the Stonemage - Voyage's best in the service of country protection. The only trouble is, she's still got two years to train, and when she's drafted into the academy, they made one itty-bitty, teeny-tiny mistake in her application: She's always wanted todesignweapons, but she never thought one day she was about tousethem...-----WARNING:This project is currently inbeta-mode! When fully updated, we will beREMOVINGthis story entirely to rewrite and rework story elements. What you are about to read is the unfinished beta story to which nothing will be absolute. You are my gineau pigs!
Series: Compass [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098356
Kudos: 1





	Compass (BETA)

The sky was bright, and not just because of the clouds reflecting the light of the flames. That night in 1312 was a Paradise Sun. The light of the planet’s star cast upon their red moon, and across the entire sky, like light through a stained glass window. It would have been a remarkable view - if not for the city that was being burned down in front of it.  
Airships filled the skies - huge winged ships from the northern kingdom’s military, littering the horizon like a swarm of birds before a cold front. The citizens of Crankhelm were ill-prepared, still building their tiny empire with what primitive resources they had. They had at once believed this place would be the start of new life for their kind, a race unlike human beings, but until now never given the freedom to be treated equally. They stood firm on the belief that this place was the foundation of new life and meaning, breaking free out of their chains of slavery. This was the place of Mechanica, the Souls of Voyage.  
And it was being obliterated.

Fire rained from the sky. Glowing embers rushed forth from the earth. Flames burst from the windows and roofs of the once lived in homes of the mechs. Just like that, everything was being burned away to soot and char and memories.  
Soldiers stormed through the streets. The mechs who fought back were shot through their cores, falling heavily into the cobblestone, never to exist on this earth again. The mechs too terrified to do anything but freeze were captured, held hostage on their ships and brought back to their kingdoms, where they would surely be sold off as slaves. And then there were the runners, some shot down like ducks taking off from a lake, others managing to find safety in the woods, until they were found or they rusted up and withered away, alone and scared.  
She was a runner. She had only existed for about a week until now, long enough to know family and home, not long enough to understand hatred, fear, and war. But all too quickly, the weight of the world was thrust into her still fragile, beating core, and the only notion she had of the situation was to run. Run until it hurt, run until the screams and pleas for mercy of her city were drowned out by the whirring of her internal engines. Run, until everything was okay again.

It never was.

\-----

I was a simple girl growing up - simple, in that I never wished for some big, elaborate dream that would just fall into my lap. Somehow, _not_ wishing for such a thing caused _just_ that to happen. All my life, I envisioned myself working alongside my uncle, in our garage full of everything, in our tiny, snow-covered town in the mountains of Polara; yet somehow, some way, I found myself standing here, in the capital of Jewl, about to sign an apprenticeship with _the_ Stonemage Circle, the finest soldiers in all of Voyage. Soldiers, as in real battles and fighting, weaponry, life or death stakes every day. And I was about to become a part of it.  
I almost wanted this all to be some crazy dream, like the one I had just this morning, where magical winged horses flocked to a canyon-surrounded lake, and I chose one - a rosy brown stallion with big, glossy eyes - as my own. Or he chose me, I couldn’t remember. What I remembered was that it was fantastical, rather than nerve-wracking. Couldn’t this place of indecision just be another dream?

Alas, I know it not to be.

It was in the way that my morning started like every other, where nothing cool or different or magical seemed to present itself. I couldn’t fly, unless you counted flying down the stairs to get a few scraps of bacon before Uncle Jeff devoured the rest of them. I wasn’t in another realm, unless you counted the mess of funky parts littering the garage that made it feel like a cave of wonders, of sorts. Most importantly, I knew it wasn’t a dream, because dad was still in the medical ward. He wasn’t somehow magically healed, like I had always been hoping. In fact, it seemed he was getting worse.  
Uncle Jeff and I, like always now, bundled up after breakfast to trudge the mile and a half walk to the town’s something-of-a-hospital; It only passed as a hospital because it was a building with four walls that provided painkillers and sometimes bandages. Other than that, the three of us all agreed it was just a prison.  
I knew my father was looking worse; His hair was less fiery than normal, flat from a lack of washing and losing it’s curl in the ends; His eyes, once green as a fir tree’s branches, were now desaturated sage, and his face was pale and sunken in, wilting away like the spring wildflowers in [MONTH]. I knew Uncle Jeff knew, too, in the way he’d pace in the shop and look out the window, scratching and tugging at his goatee while he stared ahead at nothing. He didn’t need to tell me the truth anyways - I knew.  
The one thing that was so different out of the entire morning, however, the true difference, was what dad said when we were sitting together at his bed, chatting and updating one another. Once we had deemed we were caught up enough - nurses offering to try this and customers in the shop complaining about that - dad asked Uncle Jeff to step outside, that this was something important only for me and him.  
“Daniel…” He’d said, as though offended that this matter didn’t require him. But he heeded the request of his dying brother-in-law, and stepped back out into the cold winter air while we sat alone together in dad’s curtained box.  
Before I had the chance to ask, I watched as he reached into the drawer of his bedside table, and produced two things from it.  
The first one was a scroll. It was wrapped up in a black ribbon, the edges looking darker and more warped, as though it’d been dropped into the snow more than once.  
“Do you know where this is from?” He asked me. I stared wistfully at the parchment, but did not present any kind of answer, and merely shrugged.  
“It’s from Aunt Meadow,” He explained, “All the way in Cardinal Rose.”  
“Wow, all the way from Cardinal Rose?” I asked.  
“Mhm.”  
“What does it say?”  
“Well, how about you read it?” He inquired, handing the scroll to me. My smaller, more delicate hands grasped the roll and took it from his larger, calloused ones, and I retreated back to my seat by his bed to unfurl the message.

_Daniel, Daphne & Jeff:_

_In case you were wondering what took so long, security cracked down on the postal system again. I had planned to leave more enclosed to you all, but I didn’t want to risk it being lost. Still, what I did try to sneak in I hope made its way to you!_  
_Jewl is hotter than it’s ever been for the winter months. I fear we may have a very wild summertime this year. The team is all well, I’ve been holding my position as a lieutenant for almost three years now, can you believe it? I could never take any higher a position though, truly - I know how hard Thorn’s job is managing all of us at once, on top of being a head of the Stonemage Circle’s main board of captains!_  
_Especially considering last year, we’ve had run-in after run-in, mostly for criminal activity in the outskirts of the capital - mechs burning down buildings, yada yada. I understand where they come from, I just wish it didn’t have to be pushed to these extremes, because then we have to deal with it._  
_It’s gotten even harder to now, with the kingdoms pushing all of their finances onto border security - we’ve been forced to let go of good teammates, including our wonderful Dakota, bless her soul, who designed and managed all of our sector’s weapons and armory._  
_This is where I have to mention it to you, I know Daph is still young, but we could use all the help we can, even in as basic an area as the weapon mechanics. I know your girl is a natural with welding, tinkering and all the likes of weaponry, and we do have student apprenticeships she would be eligible this year for, but I know how you feel about us frontliners. If I can offer my few words of elder-sibling wisdom, let this be something she can decide for herself. Obviously, it would mean she would move out here to live with us in Jewl, but the apprenticeship will lend her a full five-year training in the SoulFire Academy (though she'd only need a minimum of two), and that takes care of food, shelter, and responsible caretakers and teachers. When I can, I would gladly even extend my hand to give her personal tutelage from the Stonemage’s own training facilities - she’d need to know a little bit of everything in Stonemage basics before she can become a real team member, but five years is more than enough time, especially if she competed in SoulFire._  
_Just give it some thought, let her consider it. This is big, but this could be what she needs right now._

_Yours straight from the Stonemage Circle [Sector 713-Alpha],_  
**_Lt. Meadow West-Cliff_ **

I stared at the note for a long moment, pondering its existence, its truth. Was this really what I thought it was?

“So…” dad began, “I know that...it’s a lot to take in. It’s a lot for me, too. This is a big life decision.”  
“Does this mean I have to leave?” I blurt out.  
He shakes his head, “It means you have the _option_ to now. You’re of the age to start an apprenticeship, I can’t stop you.”  
I hadn’t had the option to choose something this big in the entire fifteen years of my life. The most I had ever been able to choose indefinitely for myself was what I wanted to wear in the morning and what I felt like cooking for us. The thought had never occured to me, that one day I would have to do something more with my life than to be the hodge-podge mechanic’s junior apprentice of the little mountainside village of Steinscope. Until now, I had never imagined there could really be _more_ to my life than this.  
But Aunt Meadow’s life intrigued me, in a way I still can’t fully understand. I’m no good in a fight, and no help in planning an attack, yet the life of a warrior and a protector in the Stonemage felt like a work of great honor, and I wondered how many of their tall-tales were somewhat true. Perhaps being the on-sight mechanic for them was what I wanted, where I could do what I’ve always known and loved, and still watch them go out to protect their kingdom from harm, and be the reason they can fare against such enemies.  
“What about you, and Uncle Jeff?” I asked, “Won’t you still need me?” No matter how much the Stonemage fascinated me, my family was more important.  
“Adrian will be taking up an apprenticeship soon, and even if he doesn’t take that up with us, Uncle Jeff will be able to manage on his own.”  
“What about you?”  
“Don’t worry about me, Daphne.” He lied; I knew as much from the way he said my name.  
“If this is what you want,” - He said, pointing to the curled parchment in my hands - “then we will make it happen.”  
I feel selfish for wanting to go with the Stonemage, with the real people I had only ever grown up knowing in mythic legends - the protectors of Voyage, the Guardians of the Four Coasts. But if I chose to stay here with my dying father and my apathetic-natured uncle, I will live the rest of my life as though I made the wrong decision. I may never get a chance like this ever again.  
“What...would mom have wanted?” I ask. It was rare to bring her up anymore, though I wasn't sure why. It's not like we had a problem talking about her.

It was then that he handed me the second item from the drawer.

The metal around the pendant was cool against my fingers as I took it. It looked like a pocket watch on the outside, with a long copper chain attached to it. But as I clicked it open, I realized it wasn’t a watch - it was a compass. There were four points, each the symbol of the four kingdoms of Voyage, the “Cardinal Lands”; Jewl, the east, was the outline of a rose; Rift of the south was a bow and an arrow, pointed towards a four-pointed star; Gearre to the west bore the symbol of a great winged horse, a Pegasus, and our own kingdom of Polara wore the emblem of a shield and two crossing spears.  
Then I noticed the piece of paper wedged in the inside of the compass’s cover. It looked wrinkled and old, and the words in it were roughly written, slightly tilted and loose:

_We were; We are; We will be._

“You’re mom always lived for the moment,” dad said, “She believed there was always more to a person than who they are now. It’s what they will blossom into next.”  
He then laid his tired, aged hand over mine, and for the first time since he had fallen ill, I saw that spark of life in his eyes again.  
“And she always believed you would bloom into something extraordinary.”  
He took the locket from my hand, closed it gently, and laid it’s chain around my neck so that it would remain close. I could feel the lump in my throat beginning to form, tears filling in my eyes. I didn’t have to make my decision with words; he already knew what I would choose.  
When Jeff came back in, finally fed up with the cold, he seemed to know too - he noticed the compass around my neck, and instantly his disposition went from cold and aggravated to solemn and respectful. Whether that was on behalf of my dad or the memory of my mom, I never asked.

The two of us walked back home in silence. I wasn’t sure what to say, or how to put it. Where did I need to go from here, how soon would I have to leave? But I didn’t pester him with any questions as we went back home.  
I wondered if Uncle Jeffery was afraid. He lost mom to the same fate, by the same people. Well, not directly, but it was her choice to become a member of the Stonemage that led to her inevitable death. I was three when that happened.  
I still wish I could’ve known more about her, the one memory I do have of her is faded and old, and nothing related to her being more than just my mother and caretaker. But when I ask him, the topic is always shut down. Uncle Jeff and dad both still have a hard time coming to terms with it, I know, but dad at least has learned to be okay talking about her. Maybe it’s because I look like her.  
But I might learn the truth now. Leaving for the Stonemage, becoming their apprentice, and being under Aunt Meadow’s tutelage, I might begin to learn about 'the real mom', the mom that served and fought, and died trying to protect. Except I won’t be fighting - I’ll be fixing. That’s my talent, anyways, the hand-me-down from my dad. I tinker. Between fixing the odds and ends in town and building prosthetic replacements for mechs, I make gadgets and doodads with whatever scraps we have. One time I made a coat rack for dad and uncle Jeff, with a special tray above for their glasses so they didn’t lose them when they put on a welding mask - I had gotten tired of them asking me all the time where they left their eyeballs last.  
Stonemage weapons and armor weren’t the same as building coat racks, but I had made my fair share of prototype weapons and blueprints, and with schooling from only the largest and most highly-acclaimed academy in Voyage, I would surely be able to do what they needed me to. That was the reason I decided I was going in the first place - this was the chance to do something I’ve always wanted to do.

And this opportunity might never show up again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the original story I have been trying to make for the better half of _six years_. And the reason you guys are seeing this is because I _have_ to get it out publicly in order to finish the draft. This is the draft! This is the bare-bones version of the story, and I know already I'm gonna have a _hell_ of a lot of work on my hands to rein the tale in. But I've got to get it _out_ , and I need to get some feedback. So hit me!!!  
> \-----  
> Personal Notes:  
> -Might change to 3rd person (again) as opposed to 1st. While I want to keep Daphne the main focus of the story, there are a total of _four_ main characters in this, and all have their own 'Getting to SoulFire' backstories that I want to delve into. Also, I feel like 2nd/3rd person may fit Daphne a little better, since she's a bit more 'dreamy' than I want the story to be. She does, admittedly, live with her head in the clouds a lot. This is simply her character.  
> - _PROPPIES!_ Those of you that are reading, if you squint hard enough, you may notice that a lot of these characters have very special roots. Daniel and Jeff are heavily based off of Dusty and Maru. _Captain Wisteria Thistle_ , as you'll learn, is _my_ Compass-styled Blade. And y'all better fucking love her because she's a badass.


End file.
